


Young Gods

by Talktoziertome



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bonnie & Clyde, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, I'll add relevant tags as they occur, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-29 16:27:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15077138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talktoziertome/pseuds/Talktoziertome
Summary: A local 19-year-old, Richie Tozier, goes missing a couple weeks before his high school graduation. Eddie Kaspbrak can’t help but wonder where this bright smiled stranger has run off to. What happens when he finds him? What happens when he decides to run away with him? The result- Eddie & Richie. (The hella self-indulgent Bonnie & Clyde AU full of bank heists, trashing hotel rooms, stealing cars(and glances), and falling in love with a gun in their hands.)





	Young Gods

Eddie twirled his spoon in his hand, chewing slowly. The sound of the metal grazing the bottom of the glass bowl met his ears and sent a shiver down his spine. The milk swirled. He didn’t know where non-name brand cornflakes were manufactured. Were they just repackaging other cornflakes? Did they make new cornflakes with the same recipe? He picked up the box sitting next to his hand on the small kitchen table he usually shared with his mother. He read the nutritional facts, a frown pulling down his pink lips, his brows furrowing. All cornflakes taste the same.

 “Oh lord.” His mother’s voice floated in from the doorway that connected the kitchen and the living room.  He could hear the eyeroll in her words.

Eddie rose from his seat, his legs unsticking from the plastic of the chair painfully. The metal hair legs make an agitating scraping noise on the linoleum. Making soft footsteps in his white tennis shoes, Eddie pauses when the toes of his sneakers meet carpet.

His mother looks up from her place in her armchair, where Eddie always finds her after school, giving him a look of disgust. “Look at her.” She says, gesturing toward the television with the remote in her small hands- small hands that Eddie inherited from her.

The news was on. A woman was gripping a microphone, sobbing, with mascara making lines on her face. A man stood behind her, a hand on her shoulder, with a frown on his mouth. Underneath their faces are the words “RICHARD TOZIER- BOY STILL MISSING IN DERRY” and Richie’s smiling 11th grade yearbook photo next to the news station’s logo.

Eddie looks away from the television as his mother speaks. “She really thinks he was taken? No one would kidnap such a delinquent. And if he was? He’s gone by now- dead. It’s been weeks.” 

“You think he ran away?” Eddie asked, turning back to the crying woman on the screen. She comes on every day, crying, begging for Richie to come home. Sometimes she has Richie’s 2-year-old sister in her arms, hugging the baby like she might disappear too.

The newscaster is back on the screen, her expression solemn. “If you have any information on Richard Tozier’s disappearance please contact the Derry Police Force. He was last seen two weeks ago.” They flashed multiple pictures of Richie on the screen while describing his eye color and his height. Eddie hugged himself, messing nervously with the skin around his elbows. His bottom lip found its way between his teeth. Richie’s smiling face was usually an image he sees in his head regularly, but now it’s plastered around town and it means something else- elicits a different feeling in the pit of Eddie’s stomach than usual.

“Of course, he ran away, Eddie-bear. That boy was bad news. We should be glad to rid this town of him.” She switched the tv to some home shopping channel selling non-stick pans.

Eddie pulled his eyes from the screen, looking his mother over. Her face was plump, much like the rest of her body. He remembers sitting on her lap as a child, giggling and poking her cheeks with tiny fingers. She would make silly faces at him, sticking her tongue out and crossing her eyes. He hasn’t seen her face morph from one of disgust or neutrality in a long time. He leaned down and picked up the sock on his right leg, bringing it higher on his calf.

“I have to get to school, mommy.” He said, letting out a breath as he stood up.

“Where’s your bag?”

Eddie looked down at himself, his shorts were riding up between his thighs and his t-shirt was slightly wrinkled. He smoothed a hand down his abdomen, hoping the wrinkles would dissipate. “It’s the last day. No bags allowed on campus.”

She squinted her eyes at him. “Very well. Give me a kiss before you leave.” He nodded his head, walking over to her chair and leaning on the arm. His lips met her cheek quickly.

“Bye, mommy!” He called behind him, throwing the door open.

He picked up his bike from the grass, throwing his leg over. The air smelled like summer.

 

* * *

 

Eddie reached a hand up in front of him to grab the bundle of sharpened pencils being held together by a blue rubber band from the girl in the desk in front of his. He took one out for himself and placed it on his desk before stretching his arm back to the student behind him. His eyes drifted to the left to the empty desk near the windows. Richie’s desk. Eddie could almost see him materializing in front of him. He could see him leaning over the desk fully, his butt not even on the chair, all his weight on his arms as he whispers and laughs in Beverly Marsh’s ear. Sometimes Richie would turn to look at him too and a wicked grin would spread on his lips.

Right now, though, Beverly’s eyes were on him. She was turned to the side in her chair, her back probably painfully digging into the window sill. His eyes widened, and he looked away, making swirls in the wood grain on his desk with his fingers.

The girl in front of him tossed back a packet of scantrons. He took one for himself, reaching his hand behind him to pass the packet on. His eyes wondered again. Beverly was still looking at him. But she was looking him up and down, almost sizing him up. He furrowed his brows and their eyes met. She raised her hand, throwing her gaze to the teacher.

“Can I go to the nurse?” She asks, her eyes linking with Eddie’s again.

“We’re about to take a test, Ms. Marsh.” The teacher rolled his eyes, looking up from the copies in his hands.

“And I’m about to bleed all over your classroom if I don’t get a tampon.” Richie would’ve laughed at that, Eddie thinks.

“Just go, Marsh.”

On her way out, she looks at Eddie again, mouthing the words “5 minutes.” Eddie nods, his heart rate picking up, sweat building up on his palms. He’s never talked to Beverly Marsh in his life. Her and Richie were always skipping class and playing music loudly in the student parking lot in Richie’s truck, and smoking during lunch. In all honesty, that scared the shit out of him. What scared him the most, though, is that he wanted to be with them, hanging out of the windows, dancing in the truck bed like he was in a Miley Cyrus music video. He wanted to cling to Richie’s side as they smoked. He wanted to just run away with Richie and his laugh. Or maybe just skip a class or two.

Eddie stuck his hand in the air before he lost his nerve, a blush working its way up his neck. He repeated asking to go to the restroom multiple times in his head, an attempt at preparing himself to speak.

“Mr. Kaspbrak?”

“Can I, bathroom... Go?” He frowned.   _Fuck._ “I mean,” he sighed. His heart rattled in his chest as a couple of students laughed at him quietly. “May I please go to the restroom?”

His teacher smiled at him sadly. Eddie hated that people felt bad for him-- that they felt bad for how awkward he was. The teacher extended the blue wooden pass to him that read “BOYS’ BR PASS” in black paint.

He stood from his desk, pulling the legs of his shorts down in the front so they wouldn’t be pushed up like a diaper around his hips and embarrass him further. “Thank you.” He said, taking the pass by the corner between his forefinger and thumb. 

He stood in front of the classroom door, whipping his head from left to right. The hall was empty with no sign of Beverly. The air vent a couple doors down, blew the top corner of the school play’s promotional poster away from the wall, making a crinkling noise in the empty corridor.

Eddie can see Richie’s locker from here, covered in stickers. He can see him too, leaning his shoulder against it as Beverly shuffles through her own mess of a locker. Richie would take off his glasses and squint, cleaning them on his shirt as he spoke animatedly, making Bev laugh and shove him. The shove would turn his body enough that he could see Eddie, once he pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, staring from his own locker. He would wink and make Eddie blush before sticking out his tongue to show off his piercing. Eddie would always look away quickly, a warmth spreading over his skin.

 His feet take him to the left, toward the boys’ restroom. Eddie walks in, placing the bathroom pass on the counter and stepping in front of one of the urinals. Before he unbuttons his shorts, arms reach out and pull him backward and into one of the marked-up stalls. Eddie lets out a yelp like a frightened chihuahua, his eyes wide as he looks up at Beverly.

Her glossy, freckled lips are turned downwards as she holds Eddie by the shoulders, holding him up against the side of the stall. Eddie almost yells for help, thinking she’s going to beat him up, but then he sees it-- tears are bubbling up in the corners of her eyes.

His shoulders relax as she asks, “Do you know where he is?”

“Richie?” He asks. His confusion sticks in her like a knife.

She lets him go, slumping against the other side of the stall. She wipes at her nose, blinking away her tears. “I thought you would know.” She knocks her head back, closing her eyes. “God, he was always talking about you, ya know? And I just thought…” Eddie’s heart is hammering. _He talked about me?_ She opens her eyes again, shaking her head. “I can’t find him.” She whispers. “What if he’s really gone, Eddie?”

“My mom thinks he just ran away,” he manages. He flinches when she lets out a watery laugh.

“No shit.” She brushes her fiery hair behind her ear. “He’s been planning this for forever. I just thought he would tell me first.” She looks down at her scuffed-up sneakers. “Or at least fucking take me with him.” She pushes away from the wall, going to push the door open. “Now it’s just like he died.”

“Wait.” Eddie grabs her wrist to stop her.

She looks down at his hand, eyes narrowing.

“Sorry.” He pulls back, releasing her arm. “I just… I- Why?” He sputters. He closes his eyes, clenching his fists. “Why would you think that I would know?”

She smiles sadly. “He had a plan set out. You were in it.”

“W-what?”

“You’re sounding like Bill Denbrough.” She joked.

He shook his head, dismissing her joke about the soccer player. “What do you mean I was in the plan? The plan to run away?” His head was spinning.

“He always was kidding around, saying he would steal you away in the night like a vampire taking a beautiful lady. He said he wanted to show you more than this town. Show you a real reason to blush.” She elbowed him, winking, as he gulped.  “I don’t know why I actually thought he would.”

Eddie felt his cheeks grow hot, his eyes focusing on the graffiti behind her head.

“Just let me know if you see him, okay?” She squeezed his shoulder.

He stood there, twisting his fingers together. Richie had a crush on him. Richie actually _liked_ him. Richie wanted to show him things. But Richie’s **gone** now.

 

* * *

 

Eddie holds a cardboard box against his hip, reaching in to grab out miniature cherry pies so he can line them up evenly on the shelf in front of him. He pulls at the corners of each plastic wrapping, making sure they’re all perfectly rectangular. Every summer, he works at a little gas station that nobody ever goes into just on the edge of Derry. He checks the clock above the freezers. 1:27 AM. He yawned. He was only ever tired when he knew that it was numerically too late for him to be awake.

His mother wasn’t too thrilled when he acquired the position. When he came home from his interview with a name tag and a smock she nearly put herself in the hospital with the hissy fit she threw.

“ _It’s just night shifts, mama.” He had said, reaching into the fridge for a bottle of water. He turned around, cracking the cap and pushing the fridge door closed with his foot. “And only during the summer.”_

_“All of the hooligans come out at night, Edward.” She was sat at the kitchen table, her arms folded, her face red. Eddie imagined all the blood in her body pooled into her face, making her head pop._

_“It’s not a big deal. I’m 17 now. I’m sure I can handle some drugged-up bums trying to buy slushies and bubble gum.” He leaned against the counter and spoke around the water bottle that was pressed against his bottom lip._

_“Not a big deal?” His mother’s voice rose. Whenever she started to yell, Eddie would flinch. She seemed to always get squeaky when she was annoyed. He guessed he inherited that from her as well, along with his hands.  “Edward, you could get hurt and I wouldn’t even know! How do you expect me, as a mother, to be okay with something like this?”_

_“I’ll be stocking shelves and cleaning, ma. Reggie said that-”_

_She cut him off in the middle of his explanation, “That’s another thing! Reggie Carmichael used to inject the marijuana in the boys’ restroom when we were in high school. I don’t want some man off getting wasted on a drug while my son runs his store at night.”_

_Eddie took in a breath. “Okay.” He said. He stepped forward, standing directly in front of the table now. “You_ smoke _pot, first off. And you don’t get wasted on it. You get high.” His hands were resting on the back of the chair opposite his mother._

_Tears filled her eyes. “Oh, Eddie-Bear, are you using the marijuana?”_

_Eddie rolled his eyes and slapped a hand to his forehead. “No, ma! I’m just telling you what it is!”_

_She began full sobbing now. “My son is becoming a trashy hooligan.”_

_“Oh God,” he murmured under his breath. “I’m going in my room.”_

_He jogged up the stairs to get away from her. He couldn’t take it when she cried._

Eddie rolled his eyes at the memory as he reached for another cherry pie. The bells above the doors jingled, signaling a customer’s entrance. Eddie didn’t normally see customers. He’d often go through whole shifts without seeing anyone. He would normally sit at the counter and flip through a magazine while headlights floated passed him.

He strained his neck upwards, over the aisles, trying to see who walked in. He could just see the top of a black hood over someone’s head. “Hi, there! Let me know if you need anything!” There’s no response and Eddie usually never gets one. He places the box on the ground and straightens the smock around his neck. He moves up front to stand behind the counter.

The person in the black hoodie is tall, much taller than Eddie, and is sticking his long fingers into the shelf of sour candies, tossing them around and looking for the right one. His back is to Eddie. He drags his eyes down his body and wrinkles his nose when he sees how dirty the guy's jeans are. Eddie notices he’s covered in grass stains, and the fingernails on his candy poking hands are dirty. The guy slips a tube of mints down his sleeve slowly with one hand, causing Eddie to raise his eyebrows in surprise.

“Hey!” The word tumbles out of his mouth loudly. Eddie wanted to be forceful, but he just sounds like a four-year-old accusing another child of stealing his toy in the sandbox.   

The boy in the hood jumps at the yell. His shoulders rise as he flinches, and his hood falls backward the smallest bit, revealing a head of thick, frizzy black curls.

Eddie’s eyes widen, and his heart beats the slightest bit faster. “Richie?” His name sounds like a relieved sigh as it slips from his lips. Eddie couldn’t stop thinking about him since Beverly had cornered him in the bathroom a couple of days ago. He wondered where he had gone- if he had hopped into a stranger’s truck on the highway after standing with his thumb out all night and was now headed god knows where with a cigarette between his lips and his feet up on the dash.  He wasn’t doing any of that, though. He was right here in front of him.

Richie turned, a sheepish smile on his face. He had patches of gray dusting his cheekbones, accompanied by freckles of dirt on his chin and the bridge of his nose. He dropped the packet of candy on the scuffed linoleum, raising his hands in the air.

“I’m sorry, man.” He sounded tired. “I’m just really hungry.”

Eddie walked around the cash register, never letting his eye stray from the boy in front of him. He stepped up to him, almost nose to nose. In their case, nose to chin. Richie let out a shaky, nervous breath. 

“Please don’t tell them where I am.” Richie’s hands lower.

Eddie sunk his body down, bending at the knees. He picked up the candy and took Richie’s left hand in his, pressing the candy there, closing dirty fingers around it. He held Richie’s closed fist in both of his hands, looking up at him through his lashes. “I won’t.”

Richie took a trembling lip between his teeth, tears threatening to escape the corners of his eyes. The fluorescent lights glared in his lenses. “Thank you.” The words came out weak. He placed his other hand over Eddie’s and pulled him up to stand in front of him again.

They stood, hands clasped together, while Richie worried his bottom lip, eyes jumping around Eddie’s features. Closer now, Eddie could see the cut on Richie’s chin and scratches on his neck.

“Where have you been?”

Richie’s laugh is watery and softy. “Um,” He wipes at his nose with the back of his hand. “-Kind of all over. I’ve been sleeping in the shed in my backyard.”

Releasing Richie’s hand, Eddie can’t help but laugh. “You’ve been in your parent’s shed this whole time?”

Richie nods, looking down at the mints in his palm. It dawns on Eddie, suddenly, that this is Richie Tozier standing in front of him. Eddie has always viewed Richie, albeit from afar, as a strong boy, standing tall with his head and middle fingers up. Now though, Richie’s shoulders are slumped, with tears in his eyes and dirt on his cheeks. Eddie sighs, looking to the side.

“Well, you need more than just mints.” He lifts a bag of chips off the shelf and opens them, holding them in front of Richie’s face. The smell of nacho cheese fills the space between them. Richie lifts his head, greasy, black tendrils fall over his smudged glasses, a smile spreading on his face.

 

* * *

 

Richie leans his head back, squirting spray cheese onto his tongue. They’re sat one aisle into the store, leaning against the shelving, their bottoms aching from sitting on the linoleum too long while Richie stuffed his face with various gas station snacks. Richie’s hand not around the spray cheese can was dug into the bag of chips Eddie had originally offered him.

He pulled that hand out of the bag, making it crinkle, as Eddie began to speak. “So, why’d you leave anyway? What was the plan?” Eddie didn’t want to outwardly ask Richie about what Beverly had said to him in the bathroom. He didn’t want to ask him just in case he had read the situation wrong. Just in case Richie didn’t actually want to take him with him, but he really hoped he did want his company on his great escape from Derry. He waited for the answer. He had his knees hugged to his chest, arms around his legs and had his chin resting on them as he watched Richie.

Richie swallowed the cheese then stuck his fingers in his mouth, licking the chip dust off of each appendage. Eddie held back from outwardly cringing because of how dirty Richie’s fingernails had gotten after weeks of living on the streets and sleeping in a shed. He shook off the disgust as he saw a glimpse of the shining, silver ball that made a home on Richie’s tongue. A blush crept up his chest.

Richie turned his head and sighed. “I just wanted to see the world, ya know? Before I make any decisions about my life. It’s my life- no one else’s.” He scratched at his scalp. “I just sat back one day and realized that I was becoming my dad. I was going to go to college, become a dentist. That’s not me, Eds. My whole life was planned out for me by my parents. They love me- I know that, don’t get me wrong- but they don’t get me. They never did.” He tore open a Hostess cupcake wrapper with his teeth. He bit into it, speaking around the chocolate cake and icing. “My mom used to say-” He swallowed. “-that she wished I was a girl, so she could at least try to understand some of the things I did.” He met Eddie’s eyes. “I think I’m just going to go back. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“No!” Eddie gasped out, his hand grabbing Richie’s dirty one. “You can’t. I’ll-” He gulped, determination washing over his features and filling his body. “I’ll go with you.”

“What?” Richie’s eyes went wide, a rose color bleeding into his cheeks. He made Richie blush.

“We can leave Derry together,” Eddie said, squeezing Richie’s hand in his own, feeling its warmth and absorbing it like it was giving him power and confidence.

Richie squeezed back, a small smile on his face. “Okay,” he whispered.

Eddie got to his feet then, walking over to the register and taking his keys off of his belt. He looked at Richie from where he still sat on the linoleum, looking at Eddie with confused eyes and a smile. Eddie took a deep breath before sticking the key into the cash drawer and letting it slide out. Richie got to his feet then, going to his side. Both boys looked at the money piled into the register drawer.

“We’re doing this?” Richie asked.

Eddie met his eyes. They were almost nose to nose again. Richie smelled like chocolate mixed with Doritos, and his eyes were shining with mischief. Eddie bit his lip. His body felt like it was vibrating with anxiety. He turned his head back to the drawer. _Fuck._ This isn’t legal. This isn’t moral or rational in any sense. His eyes connected with Richie’s again. _Fuck all of that_.  He reached into the register, grabbing up the stacks of money in his hands. He pulled a brown bag from beside him and neatly folded the cash into it.

“So, what’s the game plan, Spaghetti?” Richie tucked the folded-up bag under his arm, with a laugh in his throat, after it was shoved into his chest to be held.

“First of all,” Eddie began, closing the store and flipping the light switches off. “Don’t call me that.”


End file.
